


Filthy Gorgeous

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, But his age still makes him illegal, Chris & Victoria are PILFs, Consensual Infidelity, Consensual Underage Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, First Time, He does consent to the sex, If this bothers you-please don't read, M/M, Manipulative Circumstances, Mention of one-sided Stiles/Derek, Minor Daddy & Mommy Kink, Multi, Non-Con Elements because he's underage, Older Man/Younger Man, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Porn Watching, Seduction, Threesome - F/M/M, Use of the word slut & whore during sex, Vaginal Sex, age disparity, season 2 canon divergent, stiles is 16, stiles is horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn't really sure when his life took a detour from the usual horror movie plot it's been later and went straight to kinky porn, but he can't really complain when Victoria and Chris Argent are determined to seduce him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Filthy Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eeyore9990](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/gifts).



> Based on eeyore9990's prompt: I HAVE A PROMPT FOR YOU!! Victoria/Stiles/Chris, Season 2 era with the following off your trope list: 27. First times (together or ever) , 63. Age Difference (Older/Younger) 64. Watching Porn/reading porn together
> 
> She prompted me for this because I totally wanted an excuse to write it, and I really hope she enjoys the finished product.
> 
> NOTE: This is 16 year-old Stiles being seduced and consenting to sex with Chris and Victoria Argent. There is manipulation of circumstances so they can seduce him. He's a consenting participant, but he's also a horny 16 year old. If any of these things bother you, please protect yourself and don't read. If I missed any tags, please let me know.

It isn’t unusual for Stiles to be asked to stay behind in a class. His grades are excellent, second only to Lydia for highest GPA of their class so far as he knows, but he’s got ADHD, so sitting still in class and actually focusing tends to lead to a lot of disciplinary issues or teacher-student conferences in hopes of preventing his dad from being notified. This time, though, it’s odd. Allison’s mom is subbing for his English class, and there had been a very heated discussion about “The Most Dangerous Game” in which Stiles argued the point that Zaroff just got off hunting humans while Becky Morris totally missed the entire point and wanted to act like he’s reading into the text incorrectly.

Since Becky Morris hasn’t been asked to stay behind, Stiles figures he must have done something Mrs. Argent didn’t like. Probably some of his deliberate taunts about hunters trying to compensate for something and how maybe the hunters need to be hunted sometimes. As if he’s going to resist striking a few blows against one of the people hunting his best friend? Not to mention their obsession with Derek Hale, who has had enough bad luck in his young life, thank you very much! He doesn’t need the Argents fucking up things now that he’s stupidly got himself a pack of broken and alienated teenagers. Stiles has always been one of those alienated teens, so he doesn’t want to see Erica, Boyd, and Isaac fucked up by a distracted alpha who can’t figure out how to handle them.

And okay. Stiles might not be part of Hale’s pack, but he’s never let formality stop him from getting shit done before. Scott and Allison’s whole love affair stinks of tragedy in the making, the Hale pack is a bunch of needy kids who want more but don’t have a clue what to do with their new powers, and Stiles is even feeling sorry for Jackson Fucking Whittemore these days, so he’s had it up to _here_ with hunters prancing around like they’re fucking bad asses who actually follow a code when he knows that’s not true. Not after everything with Kate Argent. So, yes, he might have looked directly at Mrs. Argent when he hit a few of his best quips about Zaroff and hunters sucking ass, but he’s tired of being the only one who seems to realize there’s a shit storm brewing in Beacon Hills that might take them all out when it’s finally over.

“Mr. Stilinski, thank you for staying behind.” Mrs. Argent is calm and collected, her cold tone irritating. Does she ever get upset? He sort of wants to make her snap.

“Didn’t have much choice, did I, Mrs. Argent?” Stiles knows how to identify people’s buttons, okay? And he gets off pushing them until he pushes too far sometimes. That means he plays up the insolence and gives her no respect at all, watching with satisfaction as her lips tense and her eyes peer at him intently.

“You always have a choice, Stiles,” she says, using his name and watching him for a reaction. Please. Like he didn’t spent the past few months helping Scott deal with his wolfyness and help kill Peter Hale. She’s not nearly as intimidating as she thinks. Or maybe he’s just had years of practice dealing with people like her, judgmental adults who think they know everything but don’t have a clue what he’s feeling or thinking. She leans into his personal space, and he leans back, blinking at her because that? That was unexpected. “You’re a smart young man. I’d suggest you weigh your options and make the wise choice before you’re in too deep to get out.”

Stiles forces a lazy grin on his face, noticing the way her cold eyes glance down at his mouth because what? He forces himself to focus. “But I like it deep, Mrs. Argent,” he tells her, fluttering his eyelashes as he leans into _her_ personal space so she can see what it feels like. “Maybe you should listen to your own advice. There’s always a choice, and there’s nothing shameful about realizing you’ve made the wrong one and changing your mind.”

“Boys who run with wolves often get hurt,” she tells him, refusing to back down. They’re now standing right up on each other, the scent of her floral perfume tickling his nose, and she’s staring at him in a way that he can’t decipher. “Why does my daughter keep calling you, Stiles? I’ve noticed quite a few calls to you recently on her call log. Do you know something about the recent deaths?”

“I don’t know anything, _Victoria_ ,” he says, watching with satisfaction as his use of her first name makes her purse her lips again. “I’m just your typical cliché high school student trying to keep his grades up while experiencing a sexual identity crisis and dealing with normal high school drama. Why would I know anything about deaths? As for Allison, maybe she’s hot for me? I am a pretty good catch, even if no one at this school seems to realize it.” Hello, bitterness. Thy name is Stiles.

Mrs. Argent stares at him thoughtfully, and he gets a feeling she’s changing her strategy because her expression alters slightly. Her tongue darts out to swipe across her lips, and Stiles watches it, feeling slightly unsettled because what the hell libido? He might be horny most of the time, he _is_ sixteen, but Allison’s mom is scary and cold and, well hello, that must be his type because his dick is twitching in his pants just like it does whenever Derek Hale gets a little too rough or moves into his personal space to snarl at him.

When Mrs. Argent leans in close enough that his shirt is touching her blouse, Stiles swallows. Her breath is warm against his ear, the smell of her perfume even headier this close. “You are anything but typical, Stiles,” she whispers, not touching him at all but it _feels_ like he’s been touched. She steps back then, her expression distant and polite. “Now run along to class. We wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“You should be careful, Mrs. Argent. Sometimes the hunter can become the prey,” Stiles murmurs, his grip tightening on the strap of his backpack that’s over his shoulder. He meets her eyes and gives her the insolent grin that makes her nostrils flare. “You should know from personal experience, in fact, that sometimes humans are a lot more dangerous than the creatures you’re trying to hunt.” He winks at her as he leaves because he’s a brat, alright? And he’s annoyed that she’s used her position as his sub to attempt to warn him off and get information. 

He’s also frustrated that his kink seems to be dangerous unattainable people who could kill him as easily as fuck him. As he hurries down the hall to his next class, he decides that he isn’t going to tell Scott about Mrs. Argent’s conversation with him. He’s going to do his best to forget the whole thing happened, in fact. Well, until he gets home and can jerk off thinking about making her lose her cool and beg for it.

**************** 

The Handy Mart is out of burritos. How the hell can the only convenience store close to the preserve be out of terrible but delicious microwave burritos? Stiles is very disappointed, and he mutters at the poor lady behind the counter about how their manager needs to keep up with inventory better. He’s been wanting a burrito all day. At least, that’s been the story he’s planning to tell when he accidentally stumbles across Derek Hale training his puppies in the preserve. It seems like the Hale pack is avoiding him, and that’s frustrating. It’s not like he saved their alpha several weeks ago by holding his heavy ass up in cold water for what felt like several days or anything. Not to mention them working together with the whole Jackson Kanima thing and being a little bit like the Scooby Gang, circa Buffy season 3 because there are werewolves.

Since the burrito is not an option, and he really _is_ hungry, he goes to the freezer case to see if anything else looks good. He’s staring at the various options, none of them appealing, when he notices a reflection in the glass as someone moves behind him. He starts to move aside, but a hand touches his arm. “I can reach around you, Stiles,” a husky voice drawls, and Stiles’ eyes widen because he recognizes that voice.

“I can move, Mr. Argent,” he says, wishing the glass reflected better because he’d like to know what kind of expression is on Allison’s dad’s face. It’s been several days since his impromptu meeting with Mrs. Argent after class, and he’s forgotten about it except when he’s having Personal Stiles Time™ and all. It seems like an odd coincidence that he’d run into Mr. Argent at this store, considering it’s outside of town and nowhere near the Argent’s house or much of anything, really.

“It’s fine.” Mr. Argent leans against his back as he opens the door to the case. There’s actual contact, full on chest against back, and Stiles inhales sharply because hello awkward boner. The scent of gun oil and _man_ is the only way he can describe the smells surrounding him as Mr. Argent presses him into the cold freezer case. “What brings you out this way, Stiles?”

“I was going for a drive. Stopped for gas and snacks.” Stiles clears his throat when he hears the high pitched whine to his voice. What is he, twelve? His balls dropped a couple of years ago, thank you very much early puberty, and he isn’t so desperate that he’s getting hard from his best friend’s girlfriend’s father rubbing against his back. Okay, so apparently he _is_ that desperate, but Mr. Argent is taller than him, and he’s got him pinned against the shelves with that cold air doing nothing to alleviate the whole arousal thing.

“Have you decided what you’re going to eat?” Mr. Argent somehow makes the innocent question sound filthy and dirty all at the same time. “Do you like meat, Stiles? I saw beef jerky at the front. Six inches, eight inches, and even twelve.” He reaches then, his body rubbing against Stiles. “With a mouth like that, I bet you could take twelve.”

Stiles gurgles. It isn’t even a choke or outraged squeak. It’s a flat out mind going to dirty depraved places where Mr. Argent works him over and makes him come until he’s coming dry gurgle. Oh fuck. Any lingering doubts he might have had regarding his sexual identity crisis (thank you Danny, Derek Hale, and the Jungle) are quickly shot down by Mr. Argent talking about _beef jerky_ in that filthy voice. Allison’s parents are deadly, and it isn’t fair. Stiles is only human, and a horny sixteen year old human at that, and he can’t withstand this attack. 

Because that’s what this has to be. Mr. Argent isn’t some perv trolling for teenage boys. Stiles has a sixth sense about that kind of thing, which is why Mr. Harris creeps him out and why Peter Hale _really_ creeped him out. No, this has to be some hunter related ‘ways to drive Stiles insane so he can no longer help Scott or the Hale Pack’ type of plan. Stiles knows he isn’t all that, after all, so it’s not like his milkshake is bringing Chris Argent to the yard. Even if he does think his ass is pretty awesome, not that he wears clothes that actually fit enough for anyone else to notice. Mr. Argent is still reaching into the freezer, and Stiles bites his lip hard when he feels Mr. Argent’s crotch pressed against that previously mentioned ass.

“You’re letting all the cold air out, Mr. Argent,” he manages to point out, watching as Mr. Argent’s long fingers wrap around a chocolate Popsicle package. Mr. Argent then chooses a cheery Popsicle, too, before stepping back.

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?” Mr. Argent is fucking smirking at him when Stiles shuts the case and turns to face him. His blue eyes are staring intently at Stiles, and his lips are twisted up in a way that makes Stiles’ dick throb. “You’re so damn young,” he mutters, reaching over to stroke his fingers across Stiles’ head, rubbing the buzzed hair for a moment before he drops his hand.

“Age is just a number, isn’t it, Mr. Argent?” he asks, managing to get his bearings now that he’s able to face his hunter and prepare a defense. His scalp is still tingling from the touch, but he can do this. Mr. Argent isn’t as scary as Mrs. Argent. He’s possibly more dangerous, though. Definitely to Stiles’ libido, if nothing else. “Or do you like them young? Younger than your own daughter. Does Mrs. Argent know?”

“You’re playing a game you can’t handle, kid,” Mr. Argent tells him. “You should go back to your toys and leave the grown up stuff to the adults.”

“But, Mr. Argent, all I have are grown up toys,” he says, licking his lips and watching with satisfaction as Mr. Argent can’t resist looking at them. “I haven’t been a child in many years, Sir. Age doesn’t mean maturity.”

“Grown up toys.” Mr. Argent leans his head down, the look in his eyes making Stiles actually feel afraid, though he’s not sure if it’s a scary afraid or a please God let this be a sex dream afraid. “You’re just a little kid playing with fire, Stiles. You’d better watch yourself. Wouldn’t want you to get burned.” He smirks as he walks away, his jeans doing amazing things to his ass. After he pays, he tosses the Popsicle to Stiles, who is still standing by the freezer case trying to figure out if this is a warning to back off or what the hell just happened. Mr. Argent’s smile is smug. “Cherry.”

“Seriously?” Stiles gapes at him as he saunters off. He takes the Popsicle and ignores the lady’s curious and slightly scandalized expression as she looks from Stiles to Mr. Argent’s back as he leaves the store. Stiles grabs a Monster and a Reese’s, going to pay then hurrying outside. Mr. Argent is leaning against Roscoe, licking at the chocolate Popsicle. “What was that? You’re lucky she didn’t call the police---didn’t call my _dad_ \---to report a creepy pedophile lurking in her store preying on unsuspecting innocent virgins.”

“The only part of that you got right is virgin,” Mr. Argent points out, arching a brow before he sucks the tip of the Popsicle into his mouth in a move straight out of a porn. The asshole. “Unsuspecting and innocent? That’s a joke. You’re a naughty boy, Stiles, filthy and horny and ready to rut with anything that offers, and we both know it. Running with wolves, sniffing after Hale like a bitch in heat. Oh yes. I know about that. You want to be fucked well and good, but you’re barking up the wrong tree. He’ll never be with a kid like you, not with his past. You need someone without morals, someone who going to give you what you want and take everything you have to offer.”

“Someone like you?” Stiles challenges, feeling the urge to slap the smug smile off Mr. Argent’s face at the same time he wants to use his mouth to slap it. “What would Mrs. Argent say if she knew you were propositioning an _underage_ boy? One of her own students?”

Mr. Argent snorts, shaking his head as he pushes himself off Roscoe. “You know, I think maybe I was wrong,” he murmurs, leaning in to breathe against Stiles’ face. “You might be a sarcastic asshole who acts experienced, but you really are just a naïve little boy whose more innocent than he realizes.” He laughs as he walks over to his SUV. “Be careful, Stiles. Playing grown up games has adult consequences. Now eat your Popsicle before it melts.”

Stiles stands there with the cherry Popsicle melting on his fingers as he watches Mr. Argent drive away. “Well, fuck.”

**************** 

The text from Allison comes out of nowhere.

Stiles isn’t sure why she needs to see him, but he hopes it’s something to do with this whole shit show they’re dealing with right now. His dad’s been fired, their plan to trap Matt didn’t work, and Jackson’s still getting sympathy points despite being a raging asshole. Not to mention that Lydia’s acting really weird, and Derek hasn’t been around since the warehouse ordeal despite knowing they need help to get this kanima situation resolved. It’s too much happening without any real chance to breathe and figure out the right plan of action to deal with it all.

Scott’s told him that Allison’s being all ‘hunters rule’ lately, too, spouting a bunch of crap her grandfather is telling her. He really gets a bad vibe from that guy, but there’s too many other things happening lately to deal with the problems some old man might be causing. Of course, Scott also told him that Mrs. Argent confronted him and was talking about how him dying would save them a lot of trouble but eventually just let him go with a warning to leave Allison out of everything. It’s weird, and it makes him wonder if maybe Mrs. Argent is also getting a bad vibe from Grandpa becoming Allison’s go to quote resource.

When he arrives at the Argents, he has a moment of doubt. Allison’s text said to come over and say they had to study for Chemistry, as their cover story, but still. Her parents have been hunting him, in a way, and he’s managed to avoid them both since Mr. Argent’s blunt conversation at the Handy Mart the other day. It would be awesome if they weren’t home, but he recognizes their cars in the driveway, so he’s not that lucky. He gets his Chemistry book and folder out of the car seat beside him and heads to the door. After ringing the bell, it doesn’t take long before it swings open.

“Mr. Stilinski, what a surprise.” Mrs. Argent answers the door and steps aside. “Do come in.”

“Uh, I’m here for Allison.” He rubs the back of his neck, deliberately looking anywhere but at her because what the fuck is she wearing? It’s not the professional attire he’s seen her in before. No, this is a revealing date night type of dress when the goal is for sex to be the end of said date. Her tits are really nice, and he’s never noticed them before because they’re usually covered up. Tonight, they’re like _right there_ almost spilling out of the V neck of her dress. The flimsy straps don’t really seem to provide enough support, either, because they jiggle as she walks, and he can’t help staring when he notices her nipples are poking against the fabric.

“Allison?” Mr. Argent is leaning against the door frame near the living room. He looks Stiles over like he’s hungry for him, which makes Stiles’ heart race just a little more. “Honey, why don’t you go see if Allison is ready for her company? I’ll entertain Stiles while we wait.”

“It’s alright, Mr. Argent. I’m good on my own,” Stiles says quickly because the last thing he wants is for Allison to realize he’s spent a lot of hours jerking his dick to thoughts of her parents fucking him. Yeah, both of them. What can he say? He’s shameless, and they’re filthy gorgeous.

“Nonsense. If I know Allison, she’ll be busy for a while.” Mr. Argent grins at him, a twist of lips that’s predatory. “And call me Chris, Stiles. Mr. Argent makes me think my dad’s around.”

“We’re doing chemistry homework,” Stiles points out, holding up his book. “Since she texted me about it, I’d think she wouldn’t take too long.”

Chris smirks and turns to walk into the other room. “Come on, Stiles. I’ll give you a beer. You like beer, don’t you?”

“You realize you’re offering alcohol to the sheriff’s underage son, right?” Stiles looks at the staircase for a moment before he follows Chris.

“Not the sheriff at the moment, though, is he?” Chris sprawls on the sofa and pats the spot next to him. “Come sit down. I won’t bite.”

Stiles narrows his eyes and considers refusing just on principle, but, if there’s some game being played, he wants to win it. He walks over and sits on the sofa, putting his book and folder on the coffee table. “My dad’s going to be reinstated. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure of that,” he says, looking at the bottle of beer Chris offers him before looking into his blue eyes. It’s weird to refer to him by his first name, even if he’s called Mrs. McCall Melissa for years. “I’m still underage.”

“I still have loose morals,” Chris says with a lazy smile. “It’s just a beer, Stiles. I know from Allison that you drink a lot harder stuff than that usually.”

“Allison needs to learn about sharing versus not sharing,” he mutters, taking the bottle and bringing it to his lips. He takes a drink, swallowing as he drinks half of it at once. Beer doesn’t really do much for him, and he does have a habit of drinking harder stuff sometimes, so the beer isn’t all that strong.

“So, Stiles. Do you have a girlfriend yet? A boyfriend?” Chris smirks at him, already knowing the answer, the smug bastard. “I find it hard to believe your classmates don’t realize what a catch you are.”

Stiles frowns. “Your wife told you about that.”

“My wife and I don’t have secrets, kid. It’s why our marriage is so successful.” Chris stares at him. “We also know how to share, which helps keep things going well.”

“Allison is distracted at the moment, so she’s asked for us to keep you amused while you wait,” Mrs. Argent says as she enters the room. She sits on Stiles’ other side, extremely close, and a strap of her dress is sliding down her shoulder, which causes the fabric to gape and flash a creamy full breast as she settles into a comfortable position. “I assured her we will do our best.”

“We were actually just about to watch a movie when you came over.” Chris smiles as he picks up the remote, his fingers fondling it as Mrs. Argent touches Stiles’ leg so she can lean forward to get a glass of wine off the table.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Stiles mutters, tapping his fingers against his upper thigh as he sends mental death threats to Allison to hurry her ass up because this is awkward. “In fact, I can go sit over in that chair so I’m not in the way while I wait.”

Mrs. Argent holds his shoulders when he starts to move. “There’s no need to move, Stiles,” she tells him, staying all up in his space and actually touching him. “This is a much more comfortable seat than that chair.”

“Mrs. Argent, your dress, it’s uh…” Stiles feels a slightly flush on his cheeks as he stares down at her breasts, which are both hanging out the V neck of her dress now. He has to adjust himself when she moves and one of her nipples brushes against his arm. He can’t even feel it through the two shirts he’s wearing, but it still gets him hot.

“Please, call me Victoria. All my friends do.” Her lips curve into a smile that can only be described as wicked as she straightens her dress. “And we’re friends, aren’t we, Stiles?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Nope. Not at all. You’re creepy scary hunters who are trying to kill my best friend and other people who totally don’t deserve it.”

“I could have killed Scott the other day, but I had a change of heart.” Mrs. Argent—Victoria—says. “My father-in-law is twisting my baby girl’s mind, and I don’t like that. My daughter is far more important than a group of silly werewolves who aren’t really even much of a threat. The kanima, on the other hand, must be dealt with as soon as possible.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know who its master is, would you?” Chris asks casually, cold blue eyes watching him.

“Nope.” Stiles arches a brow as he totally lies because he doesn’t trust either of them. Weird Grandpa or not, the Argents are up to something. “Thought you were going to watch a movie?”

Chris chuckles. “Oh, we are, kid. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Aren’t you warm, Stiles? That plaid looks like heavy material, and the house isn’t cold. Here, why don’t we just take it off?” Victoria pushes his plaid shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. Stiles shifts to stop her, but then Chris is there helping. He just lets them do it because, well, it is really warm. “Much better. My, look at those shoulders. Very nice.”

Stiles gulps when she suddenly touches his shoulders, the thin material of his t-shirt not quite enough to keep him from feeling her caress. She drags her hand down his arm, which isn’t like Derek Hale since the whole alpha thing muscular or anything but isn’t too skinny, either. ‘Maybe I should, um, go check on Allison,” he says, looking towards the doorway and escape from whatever this is they’ve got planned.

“She’ll just get annoyed if you bother her,” Chris points out. “Settle back and watch the movie. We chose it with you in mind, actually.”

What? Stiles looks at the television curiously. When the opening credits begin, his eyes widen. “This is porn.”

“Shh. We’ll miss it,” Victoria chides, leaning against his side in a very deliberate way. “It has excellent reviews.”

“Do you watch porn, Stiles?” Chris has somehow moved even closer. “Do you have your favorites downloaded on your laptop so you can watch them when your dad isn’t home? What do you like most?”

“I don’t…wha…I’m…” Stiles is staring at the television because he’s never seen porn on such a huge screen before. He’s actually been getting off to porn since he was twelve and realized touching his dick felt really good, but it’s only ever been on his computer.

“He’s a young man, Christopher. He probably doesn’t even know what he likes most yet.” Victoria is stroking his forearm, her touch warm against his bare skin. “A recent sexual identity crisis, wasn’t it, Stiles?”

“I’m bi,” he blurts out, staring at the older woman on the television who is seducing the male babysitter. Her tits are obviously fake and not that attractive, but he likes her red hair and the way the guy is trying to resist at first. “Fuck. She’s making him want it so bad.”

“Yes, she is,” Chris agrees, his large hand suddenly on Stiles’ leg. “You like that? Wanting to be forced to take it even though you’re a little slut who wants it bad?”

“You’re blushing, you naughty boy.” Victoria’s tits are pressed against his arm now, her voice right in his ear. “You like how my husband talks to you, don’t you? Are you a filthy little slut? Is that how you want to be treated? Or are you a good boy? Eager to please?”

“’m not a slut,” he mutters, licking his lips when the redhead on screen starts sucking the babysitter’s dick. He’s getting hard watching, listening to the Argents and having them touch him while there’s slurping and moaning coming from the television. When he sees a man suddenly appear on screen, his breath catches. The guy’s tall and well-built, and he’s stroking a beautiful dick as he watches the babysitter get sucked off.

“He’s caught them, hasn’t he?” Chris is rubbing his thigh still, moving his hand higher gradually. “I wonder if he’s going to punish the babysitter for fucking his wife. Oh yeah. You like that idea, don’t you? Want to have that tight ass of yours spanked hard?”

“Have you ever had your cock sucked, Stiles?” Victoria flicks her tongue out to lick at the lobe of his ear. He looks at her and stares. She slowly smiles. “Would you like to?”

“What?” Stiles can’t figure out their agenda. At first, he thought they were just fucking with him, getting their kicks by embarrassing him, but now he isn’t so sure. “I’m not telling you anything about Scott or supernatural stuff. I don’t care if you try to seduce it out of me or. I need to leave.”

“You aren’t going anywhere, kid.” Chris holds him against the sofa. “We can get information from other sources. While it is true this originally started as an effort to warn you off and get info, Vic and I realized we actually just want to wreck you.”

“I want to see your mouth on my husband’s cock and feel those long fingers of yours in my cunt,” Victoria says in a matter-of-fact tone. “We want to push your buttons, for once, and take you apart in a way no one ever has before. And, Stiles, if you’re a good boy, maybe we’ll even put you back together after.”

“I’m only sixteen,” he points out, still suspicious, still a little scared yet turned on in that conflicting way that appears to be one of his kinks, and he thinks they’re playing with them. “And your daughter is upstairs.”

Chris barks out a laugh. “Allison is staying with Lydia tonight. I used her phone to send you a text before she left because Vic and I have no problem with going after what we want, which, in this case, is you.”

“Sixteen is legal some places, so that’s good enough for us. You’re old enough to consent with only a slight moralistic dilemma involved,” Victoria adds, moving her hand over his shorn hair. “Besides, I don’t think you’re going to go tell your father about this, are you?”

“Of course he’s not.” Chris snorts. “He doesn’t tell his father about a lot of things. This can just be another secret added to the mix.” He grips Stiles’ chin and forces him to look at him. “The fact that you’re only sixteen? The fact that you’re a virgin and no one else has ever touched your cock or your ass? We’ll be your first, in every way, and that turns me on. I did warn you, kid. Playing grown up games can get you burned.”

“Let him watch the film, Christopher,” Victoria says, stroking Stiles’ chin where Chris has just been gripping him. She urges Stiles to look at the screen, where the babysitter is now sucking the older guy’s dick. “There’s a good boy. You like that, don’t you? Like seeing that young man sucking that huge cock while he’s receiving oral sex. Keep watching.”

Stiles keeps watching, even though he wants to look to see what she’s doing. When he feels her fingers on the button of his jeans, he shudders. Oh God. He’s really doing this. He’s letting them do this. He isn’t dreaming. It’s really happening. When she tugs on his jeans, he raises his hips, letting her pull them down. The woman on screen is sucking hard, getting her face fucked, and Stiles’ dick is so hard it’s ridiculous.

“Well, would you look at that,” Chris murmurs when Stiles’ underwear are pulled down and his dick is finally let out of the cotton prison. “Wasn’t expecting such a thick cock, kid. Bet you’d be real popular if your classmates knew you were packing that.”

“It’s beautiful,” Victoria says, reaching out to touch. Stiles gasps at the first feel of someone’s hand on his dick besides his own. She wraps her fingers around it and moves her hand up and down, not even managing a second time before he’s arching up and coming. He covers his face with his hands because he’s so embarrassed, his cheeks are hot from the flush spreading over him.

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re sixteen. You’ll be ready to go again in no time.” Chris runs his finger over the head of Stiles’ dick, and Stiles lowers his hand from his face to watch Chris suck his come covered finger. “Tastes like cherry,” he drawls, smirking when Stiles stares at him.

“Don’t be crude, Christopher.” Victoria looks up at Stiles from where she’s kneeling on the floor between his legs. “Why don’t you watch me instead of the television, Stiles,” she suggests before she suddenly sucks his still half-hard dick into her mouth. If he hadn’t already come, he would have from the feel of wet heat surrounding his dick. She’s moving her tongue, curling it around his dick, getting him hard again while she slurps and sucks and makes noises even louder than those in the porn.

“She’s good at that, isn’t she?” Chris is rubbing Stiles’ buzzed head, his fingers stroking the back of his neck. “Like a fucking Hoover. She likes big cocks, and yours is a lot bigger than we figured. We’ve talked about you, you know? Since we realized you were a cocky little smartass who wasn’t willing to show fear about anything. The idea of corrupting you has really got us going a lot in recent weeks. I can’t wait to see you fucked out with my come all over your pretty face.”

Chris kisses him then. A rough kiss, teeth and tongue, not that Stiles has anything to compare it to. Until now, Stiles has been sort of dazed and surprised by all this elaborate scheme to get him naked when, really, it probably would have only taken them asking him outright. With Victoria sucking his dick, though, and Chris sucking his tongue, Stiles becomes an active participant. He grips Chris’ hair and returns the kiss, having no idea what he’s doing but licking into his mouth and wondering if it’s always this wet and sloppy. Victoria is squeezing his balls, rolling the sac in her palm as she sucks him to another erection.

“We should take this upstairs,” Victoria says, pulling her mouth of his dick and wiping saliva off her chin as she stands up. “Come along, Stiles.”

“Alright.” Stiles stands up and almost falls when he trips on his jeans which are bunched around his ankles. Chris moves his arm around his waist to keep him from falling, pulling him back against denim that scratches his bare ass as Chris rubs his bulge against Stiles’ ass. He reaches down to pull his jeans up around his hips, not bothering to fasten them, his hard dick sticking out above the zipper as he walks up the stairs to the Argents’ bedroom.

He hears Chris locking the front door before footsteps follow up the stairs. “Down the hall on the right,” Chris says, guiding him into the room. Victoria’s dress is on the floor, and she’s on the bed, legs spread, fingers playing with herself, tits right there demanding attention. Stiles likes the curve of her belly and flesh on her thighs. Chris pulls Stiles’ t-shirt over his head, touching his chest once it’s bare, rubbing his thumb over his nipples, which are more sensitive than Stiles realized. Then Chris tugs Stiles’ jeans and underwear down, urging one foot then the other up until Stiles is completely naked.

“Such a pretty boy.” Victoria smiles wickedly. “Come to Mama, pretty boy.”

Chris slaps his ass cheek before shoving him towards the bed. Stiles doesn’t need any more convincing. He runs across the room and jumps on the bed, crawling up between Victoria’s legs. “I wanna taste you. Can I?” he asks, leaning in and smelling her cunt. She’s already wet, slick glistening on the folds, and the patch of auburn curls looks matted and damp.

“Ask her properly, kid.” Chris moves beside the bed, completely naked, and Stiles is distracted for a moment by the sight of his long dick. His mouth waters because he wants that in his mouth, too.

Properly? Stiles looks at Victoria and sees her smirking, obviously having noticed his fascination with her husband’s dick. “May I please lick your cunt, Mama?” he asks with a mischievous smile, watching her eyes narrow even as her lips part. 

“Yes, you may,” she says, spreading her legs wider for him. Stiles dives in, licking up and down her lips, lapping at the juices gathered there. He’s watched enough het porn to totally know what to do in theory and he hopes his enthusiasm makes up for his lack of technique. Judging from the noises she’s making, he’s doing okay. “Fingers. Use those fingers, Stiles.” She’s rolling her hips now, and he looks up at her, his face wet and sticky from where he’s been rubbing it against her. He pushes a finger inside, watching her cunt swallow it up then he adds another. Deciding that’s good for now, he starts fucking them in and out as he sucks on her clit, trying to remember everything he’s read about making a woman feel good.

“I’m going to make you feel good, kid. Do you trust me?” Chris asks as he finally stops watching and jerking his dick to kneel on the bed.

“Not as far as I can throw you,” Stiles says honestly, looking up at him. He grins. “But you’re good for doing sexy stuff to me. I mean, go ahead. I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t like it. I want to try anything and everything at least once.”

Chris laughs, shaking his head as he reaches over to pull out a bottle of lube from the bedside table. “Ah, youth. I remember those days.”

“Really? You can remember that long ago?” Stiles feels fingernails against his scalp as Victoria urges his mouth back where she wants it. Chris spanks him in response to his bratty comment, and Stiles just wiggles his ass.

“Impertinent thing, isn’t he?” Victoria says, grinding her cunt against Stiles’ face. “I think he needs Daddy to teach him some manners.”

“Fuck,” Chris groans, squeezing Stiles’ ass cheeks hard enough to bruise. “Vic, don’t.”

“Why not, Daddy?” Victoria’s panting, riding three of Stiles’ fingers now, not letting him move his mouth away from her clit. “You’ve wanted to bend him over and tend to him since he got lippy with you months ago. Not to mention how fast you come thinking about taking his cherry before the Hale boy has a chance.”

“Make Mama feel good, kid. Daddy’s going to get you ready,” Chris says, rubbing his hand down Stiles’ spine before he pulls Stiles’ cheeks apart. When Stiles feels a tongue swipe across his hole, he whimpers. Chris seems to like the sound because he keeps doing it, licking the flat of his tongue over his hole until he’s grinding down against the bed for friction. That earns him another spank before he’s forced to his knees, his hard dick flopping in the air seeking release.

Victoria comes as Chris is fucking his tongue into Stiles’ hole. She holds Stiles’ head and flops around, making these little moaning cries as his fingers get drenched. “Keep licking Mama,” she cooes, rubbing his head. “Such a talented tongue and those fingers…those silly girls at school don’t know what they’re missing. Oh, yes. Right there. That’s a good boy.”

“I need you to clench for me, kid. I’m about to finger your hole, and it’ll feel better if you listen to me. That’s it. Damn, your hole is desperate to be filled,” Chris murmurs right before a thick finger is pushed inside. Stiles has used fingers on himself, and he’s worked his way up to the handle of a hairbrush, but it hasn’t been that long since he realized the whole bi thing, so he doesn’t have much practice with stuff in his ass. Chris’ finger feels huge, and Stiles whines when a second finger is soon added. “You’re doing great, Stiles. Spreading right open for me.”

“Careful Christopher. He’s about to come again, and I want him inside me before he does,” Victoria warns, obviously noticing the way Stiles is fucking the air because, fuck, he feels so close. A hand suddenly grips his balls and the base of his dick, squeezing hard, and he whimpers as he ruts against the hand.

“I think he’s stretched enough. He’s taking three of my fingers now, and pushing back for more just like the cockslut I knew he was,” Chris says, pulling his fingers out. “When we’re done with him, he’s going to want it all the time. I bet he goes straight to Hale and presents himself, come still leaking from his hole, begging to be the pack whore just so his greedy hole is always filled and his mouth’s always full of dick or cunt.”

Stiles can all too easily imagine it, thinking about Derek and his pack passing him around, his ass sloppy and loose, Erica riding his face, and he moans low in his throat, almost keening as he’s manhandled up the bed because, fuck, he _wants_ so bad. Maybe not all of it, but Derek pinning him down and just taking him until he’s begging to come. Victoria is stroking his head, kissing him almost gently, licking his mouth as Chris pulls a condom over Stiles’ dick then guides it into her wet cunt.

“Such a good boy. You’re going to make Mama come so hard,” Victoria coos at him, her cunt gripping his dick as he slides into her. He’s just lost his virginity to Allison’s mom. Stiles doesn’t really have time to think about that, though, because he’s too overwhelmed by the scent of sex and sweat and the feeling of tight wet heat squeezing his dick. “You’re so thick. Stretching Mama so much.”

“Suck me. I want those lips wrapped around my cock,” Chris says, rubbing the wet head across Stiles’ lips like he’s applying lipstick. Stiles opens his mouth, licking at the head, tasting bitter salty on his tongue before Chris pushes more of his cock into his mouth. Stiles tries swallowing, there’s so much drool and spit, and he starts sucking, thinking about the blow jobs he’s seen in movies.

“You look so good like that, Stiles. Your mouth was made for sucking cock,” Victoria murmurs, moving her leg around his hips and rolling up take more of him inside her. “Give him more, Christopher. I bet he can take it all.”

Chris listens to her, fucking more of his dick into Stiles’ mouth. He goes so deep that Stiles gags, pushing at his hips to try to get him out. He sucks in several deep breaths of air when Chris pulls out, licking his lips before he goes back for more. He likes the feel of dick in his mouth, likes hearing the noises Chris makes when he does something right. Too soon, Chris is pulling out, rubbing the top of his head almost affectionately before moving behind him.

“No more distractions. It’s time to really fuck her, kid.” Chris is fingering his ass again, squirting lube onto his hole and getting him prepped. Stiles starts moving, fucking into Victoria with quick thrusts as he moves his head so he can suck her tits. He’s moving fast, not really sure how to do it right, just knowing it feels good and he wants more. Then Chris is holding his hips, slowing him down, shoving him in deep, guiding him as he fucks her with hard and deep thrusts that make her moan for more.

When he hears the rip of a condom package, his ass clenches. He’s sucking on Victoria’s nipple, she’s squeezing his dick, and he’s about to lose his other virginity. He’ll be a non-virgin in all ways in a few minutes. And it’s fucking amazing, both of them knowing what to do and helping him not be awkward and sloppy, and he’s glad he’s losing it to Allison’s parents instead of fumbling around with some kid from school. Chris presses the head of his dick against Stiles’ hole, and Victoria strokes his neck and scalp. “You have to relax so Daddy can get that big cock into your little hole,” she murmurs.

Stiles tries to relax, and Chris is finally able to get the head of his dick inside. He goes slow, giving Stiles time to adjust, and it’s a surprise considering how rough and filthy he’s been the rest of the night. When he’s completely buried inside Stiles’ ass, he just stays here, reaching between Stiles and Victoria to rub her clit until she’s clenching tight around Stiles’ dick and coming again. Chris starts to move then, each thrust into Stiles’ ass sending him deep into Victoria’s cunt. Stiles comes at some point, trembling and grunting as he spills into the condom, mouthing at Victoria’s tit as Chris starts fucking him harder.

When Chris pulls out of his ass, Stiles feels empty and sore. He looks up, blinking dazedly as Chris pulls the condom off his dick and starts jerking it, kneeling on the bed beside Stiles and Victoria. Ropes of come start to shoot out on Stiles’ face, hitting his cheek and mouth and nose, dripping down onto Victoria’s chest. Chris keeps jerking until his dick is spent, and then Victoria is sitting up, licking Stiles’ face clean and sucking on his lips. Stiles eventually pulls out of her, sliding the condom off before tying it and tossing it in the trash by the bed.

“It’s getting late,” Victoria says when she pulls away from a very passionate kiss with her husband. She looks at Stiles and smirks. “You should probably run along home, Stiles. We don’t want your father worrying about you, do we?”

“Uh, no. We don’t.” Stiles scratches his belly, noticing the marks on his chest from mouths and fingernails. His ass is sore, and his dick is ready for a rest, not evening twitching when he looks at the Argents standing there naked and sated. He gets off the bed and pulls his underwear and jeans on before reaching for his shirt. “So thanks for fucking me. I mean, I’m no longer a viable candidate if someone decides to sacrifice virgins, so go me.”

“Your classmates are obviously blind and stupid,” Victoria says, her eyes moving over him. “I’d suggest looking for someone older, with enough experience to recognize your potential.”

“But not too old,” Chris adds with a wry smile. “Or they couldn’t keep up with you. Come on, kid. I’ll walk you out.”

“Kiss Mama goodbye first,” Victoria says, leaning over to give Stiles a rather sensual kiss that lets him know he’s got to get more experience kissing so he can learn about all the different kinds. She cups his jaw and smiles. “This can’t happen again, we probably shouldn’t have indulged ourselves tonight, but you _are_ quite a catch, Stiles. Wait for someone who deserves you, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees, giving her a crooked smile at the actual compliment. Maybe she’s not such a cold bitch, after all. “And this, it’s not some hunter plot, is it?”

“We don’t usually break the law to fuck an underage kid for hunter plots,” Chris deadpans. He snorts. “This is because you’re a smartass who got under both our skins, and we decided we wanted to fuck you. Nothing else.”

“I get under a lot of people’s skin, and they don’t want to fuck me,” Stiles points out.

“You might be surprised.” Chris smirks at him. “Don’t shower and go drop by to see Hale. See what he does when he gets a smell of you now.”

“Christopher, do stop playing matchmaker,” Victoria murmurs fondly. She looks at Stiles and purses her lips. “Since you mentioned hunter plots, I will tell you this. My father-in-law is up to something, I’m not sure what yet but it’s against our code, and I want my daughter away from him. If that means supporting her relationship with your little friend, we’ll do whatever is necessary. Keep Hale out of our way, and we’ll stay out of his.”

“Yeah, old Grandpa gives me a bad vibe,” Stiles admits, rubbing his head as he thinks about it. “We almost got the guy controlling the kanima, but he managed to get away. Jackson might be a total asshole, but I’m having second thoughts about just killing him. So, uh, maybe shoot to stop instead of shoot to kill?”

“We have your number. I’ll text if we find out anything,” Victoria says, cool and collected despite the fact she’s naked in bed with come drying on her tits. Argent women are fucking fierce.

Stiles nods and heads downstairs, letting Chris follow him. He stops in the living room to grab his shirt, remembering to get his Chem book and folder, too. The television is still on, the movie playing and showing the babysitter being fucked by the dude. Stiles’ ass clenches in sympathy or maybe jealousy as he looks away. Chris is smiling smugly, like he can read his mind, and Stiles rolls his eyes. “Do you, uh, really think…Derek is, um,” Stiles stammers, feeling a slight flush on his cheeks as he groans. “Nevermind.”

“Hey, kid.” Chris smiles, not smug or smirky. “He’d be a fool not to, and he strikes me as a pretty intelligent guy. But it won’t be easy, considering my sister’s influence on his life.”

Stiles grins as he unlocks the door and steps onto the porch. “Yeah, well, easy is overrated. Thanks for tonight, Chris. Tell Allison I said hello.” He winks before he heads to Roscoe, just sitting there for a moment as he thinks about how his life just took a detour from the horror movie it’s been lately straight into a porn for a couple of hours. No one would even believe him if he tried telling anyone about tonight. Hell, he _wouldn’t_ believe him, either. He just laughs as he puts Roscoe into reverse and pulls out of the driveway. As he drives down the street, his lips curve into a mischievous smile.

Maybe he’ll just have to stop by and check on Derek on his way home.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com)!
> 
> This is another of the prompt fills that I plan to do over the next couple of weeks. Hope some of y'all enjoy it! I had fun writing this one.


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